


What A Beautiful Wedding

by a_lrightevans



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_lrightevans/pseuds/a_lrightevans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Sneaking away... from your sister’s wedding... for a snog...’ said James breathlessly between kisses. ‘Classy, Evans—’ She shut him up by kissing him harder, knocking his glasses askew and tangling her hands in his hair.<br/>‘Psh ...’ she muttered as his lips moved to her neck. ‘This is what weddings were invented for.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	What A Beautiful Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Wow so I actually finished writing something!! This is a first!! Thanks to tumblr users queer-pansy and snapslikethis for being fab betas <333 (((Ofc my first published fic is Jily fake-dating I am so predictable.)))  
> Reviews, ofc, would be much appreciated. xox

‘So let me get this straight.’   
James lounged back in his seat, grinning down at the back of Lily’s head. Lily, slouched in her seat, face resting on the common room table, groaned miserably.   
‘Your sister implied you couldn’t get a boyfriend, and so you lied and said you already have one?’  
She lifted her head to look at him imploringly. ‘I didn’t  _lie,_  exactly- . I was just- … _creative_ …with the truth.’  
‘Okay, but you  _don’t_  have a boyfriend?’  
‘You  _know_  I don’t—’  
‘And you deliberately lead her to believe that you  _do_  have a boyfriend?’  
‘I mean, _yes_. But—’  
‘Then you lied!’ James sounded positively gleeful.   
‘Fine,’ Lily sighed. ‘Fine, fine, fine. I lied. I’m a big fat liar. But you should have seen the smug look on her face-’  
James chuckled. ‘Oh, you don’t have to defend yourself to me, Lils. I consider it a bad day if I haven’t squeezed in at least four good lies before breakfast.’  
‘I don’t doubt it,’ she huffed, not looking particularly comforted.   
‘And now you have to go to her wedding, and she’s expecting you to bring Mystery Man?’  
‘Yup.’  
‘And you’re asking me to go with you?’  
‘Looks like I am, yeah.’  
James looked as if Lily had just told him Christmas had been rescheduled for tomorrow.  
‘So,’ he said, tilting his head in a manner that reminded her frustratingly of a kitten. ‘Why me, eh?’  
‘You’re my friend! I assumed you would have my back in my time of need!’  
James considered this, but didn’t look convinced. ‘I suppose the reason you’re asking me and not, say, Sirius, or Remus, or young Pete, would be my dashing good looks? My superior charm? My—’  
‘Peter is too innocent to drag into all of this,’ she said, counting off on her fingers. ‘Remus has too much dignity. Sirius is too unpredictable. I mean—so are you—but you’re the lesser of two evils, I suppose.’  
James considered this. ‘I won’t bother correcting you on Peter’s so called ‘innocence’—it’s the baby face that does it, I tell you—but you have loads of male mates to choose from. So why me?’ he asked, propping his chin up on his elbows and waggling his eyebrows suggestively.   
‘Because,’ Lily braced herself, knowing she was going to regret what she said next, but seeing no way out of it. ‘Petunia may have asked what this ‘boyfriend’ of mine looked like, and I may have given her a few physical descriptions. General stuff, of course. And some of those descriptions may, or may not, have kind of, sort of—’  
‘Oh my god. You described me. You described  _me_ , didn’t you, Evans?’  
She squeezed her eyes closed. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper.   
If James had looked happy earlier, he looked downright deranged now.  
‘So what did you say? Effortlessly tousled hair—’  
‘Dirty great mop on top of his head—’  
‘Tall, bronzed, quidditch-toned body—’  
‘Lanky, gangly _git_ —’   
But Lily’s heart wasn’t in the insults. In fact, she was trying to conceal a grin, and failing miserably. She left out the part where she had boasted to her sister that her boyfriend was the ‘sexiest, dreamiest’ man she had ever seen. She had been caught up in the moment, and James’s ego had received enough of a boost for one day.   
‘So, you’ll do it then?’  
‘Naturally. I’m not entirely sure what a tux is, but I’m sure I’ll look  _great_  in one.’

 ***

Lily combed her hair in the bathroom mirror, adjusted her lemon-yellow dress, and nervously checked the time. James was due to arrive in five minutes, and they, along with her parents, Petunia, and Petunia’s bridesmaids would be driven to the church in the chauffeured car that Mr. & Mrs. Dursley had paid for. Petunia had thrown a fit when she’d found out that Lily and James would be driving with them, but seeing as they had no other options, she had relented with a tight-lipped ‘fine.’ Petunia had planned her future wedding countless times when they were kids, and had always reserved the role of Maid of Honour for her sister. Lily knew that downstairs, Petunia’s bridesmaids would be fussing around her, adjusting her hair and her dress and squealing in excitement. She couldn’t ignore the sadness that kept creeping up on her. She took a deep breath and forced herself to shake it off, setting the hairbrush down on the bathroom counter just as the doorbell rang. She rushed down the stairs to answer it before anybody else could.  
She was equal parts pleased and annoyed James had been right. He looked good—beyond good—in his tux.  
‘Lils.’   
‘James.’  
He grinned at her and stepped through the doorway. ‘Excellent day for a wedding. Just  _splendid_. Now tell me, do Muggle weddings have cake?’  
She elbowed him in the side and shushed him, pulling the door closed behind him. ‘No magic talk, okay? If Tuney overhears us talking about the  _M-word_  on her  _special day_ , she’ll probably have an aneurysm. ’   
‘Fine, fine—’ said James defensively, throwing his arms up, ‘No magic talk. Got it. But… the cake?’  
‘Yes, James, Muggles have  _cake_.’  
James nodded his approval.  
Just then, a professional but kindly looking woman with Lily’s dark red hair twisted into an elegant knot emerged from the kitchen, smiling at them both between the large bunch of pink and white freesias she carried. James sprung into character with too much enthusiasm for Lily’s liking. He wound an arm behind Lily, stopping before he actually touched her, with his hand hovering less than an inch from her lower back. She appreciated his attempt to play along whilst not invading her personal space, but at the same time, there was something like competitiveness nagging at her.  
She was perfectly willing to take this seriously, to make sacrifices for the cause!  
She was a firm believer, after all, that if something was worth doing, it was worth doing properly. She leaned backwards slightly, into his touch, to signal she didn’t mind the contact; his hand froze for a second before settling on the small of her back.  
Lily’s mother bustled towards them and shoved the freesias into Lily’s arms. ‘Lily, be a dear and take these out to the car. That’s it…’ She turned to appraise the tall boy in front of her. ‘And you must be James.’  
James separated himself from Lily and flashed her mother a winning smile, one that Lily recognized from when he was trying to wheedle his way out of detention with McGonagall.  
‘Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Evans.’  
‘Oh, don’t be silly, dear. It’s Diane.’ she said, pulling him into a quick one-armed hug. ‘Now. Might as well get this out of the way,’ she said, her eyes turning to slits as her voice lost its previous warmth. ‘What exactly _are_ your intentions with my daughter?’  
James sputtered, clearly thrown off, but Lily rolled her eyes at her mother’s oh-so-predictable antics. The older woman let James suffer for a few moments longer before grinning apologetically. ‘Oh, I’m just messing with you, sweetie,’ she said, chuckling at James’s stricken face. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just have  _so_  much to do. _Weddings_ , I tell you. Could you two please do me a favour and elope to Vegas or somewhere if you want to get hitched?’ She gave James one last approving pat on the shoulder and disappeared into the living room, yelling for Petunia.  
‘Well,’ said Lily, slightly apologetically. ‘That’s Mum.’   
James let out a low whistle. ‘That’s one down. I reckon she bought it. Just Petunia and your father to go.’  
‘Oh, Dad’s easy. Just tell him you liked the marigolds in the back garden and he’ll be putty in your hands.’   
‘Right. Marigolds. Got it.’  
‘Petunia will hate you on principle, but there’s nothing to be done about that.’  
James sighed dramatically. ‘Oh, Petunia, the true object of my desires, light of my life, fire of my loins. Is there nothing I can do to win her favour?’  
‘I’m afraid it _is_ the classic tale of unrequited love. You will receive nought but heartbreak.’  
‘Oh cruel, cruel existence. When will it al—’  
Lily cut him off with a quick kick to the shin before slipping her hand into his. Petunia came flouncing up the hall towards them. For a second, James was too preoccupied with the sudden warmth of Lily’s small hand in his and the faint flowery smell of her hair to process anything else, but he quickly got a grip on himself. Petunia reminded him of a giant pink and white marshmallow with lots of intricately curled and heavily bejewelled blonde hair.  Once recovered from the shock of the dress, he noted that although he couldn’t see much resemblance between the sisters, Petunia, with her high cheekbones and pink-painted lips, was incredibly pretty—in a proud, haughty sort of way.   
‘Lily, what are you doing with those freesias?’ she snapped instantly. ‘Those should be in the car. Oh, the pink to white ratio is all  _wrong_. Nothing to be done about it now, would you just…get them into the car already! Oh. You must be James.’ she added as an afterthought.   
‘Yep,’ said James in a strained sort of voice. ‘Lovely to meet you. You look, uh,  _dashing_.’   
Lily had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Petunia looked James over, and Lily could tell she was both affronted by his messy mop of hair and annoyed at his easy good looks. She felt a smug sense of pride that she immediately tried to bat down. James wasn’t really  _hers_ —he was just playing the part. But  _still_.  
It didn’t hurt to throw her sister a smug look over her shoulder as she hooked an arm through James’s and pulled him cheerfully into the kitchen to meet her father.

The car journey wasn’t as awkward as it could have been. Petunia and her bridesmaids, at the front of the car, kept mostly to themselves, gushing about seating plans and flower arrangements and food courses. Lily and James sat at the back, their arms pressed together and their hands occasionally bumping in the small gap between them. Her parents sat in the middle row of seats, occasionally leaning forward to reassure their eldest daughter.  
James’s meeting with Lily’s father had run smoothly. He had followed her advice about the marigolds, complimenting them with enthusiasm bordering on excessive, in Lily’s opinion, but her father had gleefully shook his hand and, much to Lily’s delight, jabbered on for the better part of ten minutes, talking about seasonal changes, pest control, his preferred fertilizer ratio, and watering techniques. Lily had watched in amusement as James listened dutifully, occasionally giving a serious nod of his head and assuring Mr Evans that he, too, could not understand why anybody in their _right mind_ would use chemical instead of organic fertilizer.

‘So,’ said James in the back seat of the car, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially into Lily’s ear. ‘What angle are we going for? Perfect guests or unruly wedding crashers? Are we to sit quietly and compliment the salmon, or are we gonna get smashed on Muggle booze and take it in turns to try and seduce the best man?’  
Lily laughed and shook her head. ‘As tempting as that second option sounds, I’m not going to ruin her big day.’  
‘I know. I’m just kidding,’ nodded James, smiling. ‘I don’t know how you have the patience, though, thank the Lord I’m the only child. I wouldn’t have the temperament.  _Sharing_  things? Not being the sole centre of my parents’  _attentions_? I dread to think!’   
‘Not everybody gets dealt such a shitty hand, sibling-wise, you know.’  
James didn’t look convinced. ‘Yeah, well, you have dear old Tuney up there, Sirius has Reg—I reckon I’m better off with Sirius.’   
Lily nodded fairly. He had never talked to her about Sirius’s brother before, and she didn’t want to push the topic, knowing that Sirius preferred to stay pretty quiet about the whole thing.   
‘Siblings aren’t all bad though. Before…before I knew I was a W-I-T-C-H, we were _close_. It’s nice to be able to share everything with someone. To know, well, to  _think_  that somebody has your back no matter what.’  
‘Yeah well, I have my mates for that. And so do you.’ James tentatively placed his own hand on top of hers and squeezed gently. She smiled up at him.  
‘Yeah. I do.’  
x They stayed like that for a few seconds—James looked as if he might say something else—but then they were pulling up to a small, picturesque church, and Lily’s mother was ushering them out of the car.

Lily had to dole out many ‘Hello!’s and ‘How are you?’s and ‘No, I’m not a bridesmaid!’s as she bounced from distant-family-member to distant-family-member, a robotic grin plastered onto her face. James accompanied her attentively, at first resting a hand lightly over her shoulder and smiling politely, doing his best to play the head-over-heels in love boyfriend, whilst not being overly obnoxious about it.  
After a while, however, Lily began to sidle closer to him, holding his hand and fluttering her eyelashes dramatically, calling him things like ‘sweetie-pie’ and ‘sugar-dumpling.’ James did his best to stifle his laughter when she booped his nose, cooing at him sickeningly in front of a gaudily-dressed great aunt. He played along: brushing her hair out of her eyes calling her his ‘pooky bear.’  
And because it was _them_ , things eventually took on a competitive edge. Lily looked an uncle straight in the face and introduced James as her ‘Slice Of Man Pie.’ When James sauntered over to one of Lily’s distant cousins and asked her how she was related to his ‘Pwecious Lilykins’, Lily was torn between laughing and hitting him.

At last, they were ushered into the church and they took two seats at the back. James caught his first glimpse of Vernon Dursley. He was purple in the face, barging around barking orders at people.   
‘Ah—this is what true marriage should be: one woman and one walrus.’   
As it had just started to quiet down, the comment made Lily snort with laughter loud enough to gain several dirty looks from the people seated around them. ‘Shhh—’ she managed to whisper through giggles, ‘It’s starting.’ They managed to sit through the first five minutes in silence, barely able to hear what was going on from their spot at the back, but eventually boredom took over. James started making farting noises quietly enough for only Lily to hear every time Vernon spoke. She pressed her lips together and shook her head, secretly grateful that she wasn’t having to suffer through this alone.  

When the ceremony was over, the guests were led outside. Passing between dense thickets of bright green shrubbery, and over a narrow, wooden bridge that crossed a babbling brook, they finally reached a large grassy clearing edged with trees and decorated with flowers. Across the field was the large white marquee, where the rest of the wedding was to be held.  
Lily had to admit that Petunia had picked a beautiful location, and a gorgeous day: afternoon sun filtered down through the breezy air, which was filled with the perfumed scent of flowers.  
Everybody was busy bustling up to Petunia and Vernon to offer their congratulations and luck, so Lily stood off to one side and waited until the crowd had died down, and until Vernon was off somewhere attending to some family members. She edged up to her sister and smiled hesitantly.   
‘What did you think of the ceremony?’ Petunia asked her formally.  
‘It was—it was beautiful, Petunia. Congratulations.’ replied Lily, trying not to think of farting sounds coming from her sister’s husband every time he opened his mouth.  
‘Thank you.’ her sister’s reply was cool as she turned to disappear back into the crowd.   
‘Tuney—’ Lily’s hand sprang out to grab her sister’s shoulder almost involuntarily. At the touch, Petunia turned around, eyeing her suspiciously.  
‘I’m really happy for you. Truly,’ said Lily as genuinely as she could. ‘I hope you’re very happy.’   
Petunias face softened fractionally.   
‘Thank you, Lily.’ Her eyes darted quickly to James, and then back to her sister. ‘You too.’

At dinner, Lily and James found themselves seated with Lily's grandmother and an assortment of her (impressively) already drunk aunts. They ate an almost endless stream of tiny dishes—slices of Palma ham and fresh melon, figs with a pale pink salmon mousse, stuffed Portobello mushrooms, poached quails eggs, and half a dozen other things which neither of them could identify, but tasted delicious nonetheless. The courses were accompanied by glasses of sweet, bubbly champagne that had both of their cheeks flushed pink by the third glass. Lily’s gran had taken to James, and she kept pinching his cheeks and asking him to recount stories of detentions he had earned.   
He did so happily, going into great detail and adding a few embellishments that Lily was pretty sure were made up. He also made sure to gloss over the parts involving magic, which Lily was thankful for.   
“Oh  _ho_! You  _didn’t_? Frogspawn? In his  _bed_?’  
‘All over it,’ grinned James, leaning back in his chair. ‘He smelt like a pond for a week, the pompous git.’  
The old woman threw her head back, cackling. ‘This one’s a keeper, Lily.’  
Lily wasn’t sure how filling somebody’s bed with frogspawn made James ideal boyfriend material, exactly, but she had long since stopped trying to question her gran’s logic. Smiling sweetly, she said, ‘Oh, don’t I know it?’ and leant forward to peck him on the cheek.  
James looked at her, his mouth dropping into a little ‘o’ in surprise, and she kicked him under the table. He quickly gathered his wits and responded by throwing an arm over her shoulder and kissing her on top of the head. Lily’s gran had been too busy wiping tears of mirth from her eyes to notice their little hiccup, and she twinkled down at the pair of them through her bifocals.   
‘Oh, I do hope I’ll be alive to see you two give me some grandchildren.’   

After dinner and a few speeches—most of which James and Lily spent having a foot fight under the table—the tables were pushed to one side. The lights were dimmed. For their first dance, Petunia and Vernon slowly wobbled up and down the dance floor to some sappy love song that James had never heard before. Lily hummed along, a little sadly, as she watched her sister simpering up at her new husband. One by one, the guests paired off and joined the bride and groom, slow dancing.   
‘S’pose we’d better have a dance, then,’ said James quietly.  Lily looked over to him, expecting to see his trademark smirk, but instead saw an odd, delicate kind of smile playing on his lips.  
‘Yeah,’ she agreed, stepping closer to him. ‘I s’pose we’d better.’  
James entwined his fingers with hers and placed his free hand over her waist, hand hovering just as he had done earlier. She smiled reassuringly, placed her hand firmly on his chest, and moved closer. He moved closer, too, until they were fitted together properly. James’s warmth was comforting as they swayed slowly back and forth. She looked up to see him watching her face intently, and tried to ignore the faint flutter in her stomach. This was  _James_. They were just  _mates_. He was just doing this as a favour, and yet, a few glasses of champagne, and a slow dance, and she was going all soft on him. It was ridiculous. But then he lifted a hand to brush a stray bit of hair behind her ear, even though nobody was paying them the slightest bit of attention, and she stopped feeling so ridiculous. Who cared? She was slightly tipsy and dancing with one of her best mates and it felt  _nice_. She could deal with the rest some other time.  

A few slow songs—and another glass of bubbly—later, and the music began to pick up. Lily was impressed but not all together surprised that James’s dance moves were almost on par with her own—awful. They shimmied and zig-zagged about, trying to one up each other with erratic arm movements and wobbly spins. She was horrified to learn that he didn’t know the moves to the time warp, and quickly start teaching him, even promising to take him to watch the film sometime. He was a good student, and by the end of the song his pelvic thrust was as good as she could have hoped. She leaned into his side, laughing into his shirt carelessly—his jacket had been discarded long ago. He grinned into her hair.  It was getting warm, and they had been dancing for what felt like hours, so Lily swiped two more glasses of champagne off of a nearby tray, handed one to James, and then grabbed his free hand, leading him through the crowd.   
  
The clearing was much quieter, now, empty except from a few stray guests talking in small groups or smoking cigarettes. They set off towards the church, chatting and bumping arms along the way. Lily had been hiccupping for last few minutes, each one setting set them off on a fresh wave of laughter. They stopped at the bridge, both leaning over the side for a moment to watch the sparkling water of the babbling brook. Lily wasn’t sure if it was the setting sun or the dancing or the one-too-many glasses of champagne, but the air had taken on a hazy, golden quality. James was standing closer to her than strictly necessary, but she didn’t mind, wanted to move closer, even—  
She hiccupped again and they both dissolved into giggles.   
‘I’m really glad you asked me to be your fake-boyfriend, Evans.’  
‘So am I,’ replied Lily, grinning and looking up at him through her lashes. ‘Best fake-date I’ve ever been on.’  
James was giving her that odd, delicate smile from earlier—it was making Lily’s head spin.   
‘You know…’ she whispered, the fuzziness in her head making her brave. ‘You could fake-kiss me…if you like.’  
'There’s nobody out here… to act in front of, I mean…’    
'And yet, the offer still stands.’  
James sucked in a breath, holding it for few seconds. They were close now. Close enough for James to see the light spray of freckles over Lily’s nose. She moved marginally closer, tilting her head slightly so that their lips were ghosting over each other. The sweet, heady smell of her perfume and her flowery hair was flooding James’s nose and even as he closed his eyes, he could see nothing but red curls and freckled skin and bright, crisp green as he finally leant forward and pressed their lips together. It was a sweet, gentle kiss, and Lily sighed into it. She could still taste champagne on his lips—it was intoxicating. She lifted her hands to entwine them around his neck and pull him down, closer. He responded enthusiastically, pulling her in by the waist until they were fitted snugly together, the kisses slowly becoming deeper, more insistent.

‘Sneaking away... from your sister’s wedding... for a snog...’ said James breathlessly between kisses. ‘Classy, Evans—’ She shut him up by kissing him harder, knocking his glasses askew and tangling her hands in his hair.  
‘Psh ...’ she muttered as his lips moved to her neck. ‘This is what weddings were  _invented_  for.’  
He started to laugh into her neck and she couldn’t help but grin too, the laughter spilling out of her as she leant in to get another kiss. James’s shirt had become untucked, and Lily was just starting to fiddle with the hem when the shrieking started.

‘Disgusting! Not an  _ounce_  of shame! The youths of today—at a  _wedding_ , of all places! Not a shred of  _decency_ —’ An incredibly large, austere looking woman was teetering towards them at an alarming rate, waving a cane in their direction. Although Lily didn’t recognise her, the lack of neck identified her as a member of the Dursely party. ‘Stop that! Show some respect! Nasty—good for nothing—its  _bad blood_  if you ask me—’

She was looming closer, cane swishing through the air dangerously, so Lily grabbed James by the hand and did the proper, Gryffindor thing: _legged it._  She dragged him across the bridge and into a cluster of bushes, ducking down among the branches and out of sight. They held their breath for a few seconds, waiting for the woman's voice to die down, but the second they caught each other’s eye, they doubled up with laughter again. They were giggly and pink cheeked and breathless, looking at each other through the green tinted light, breathing in the sharp, sweet, earthy sent of leaves.  
‘James?’  
‘Hm?’  
‘Not that you haven’t been a fantastic fake-boyfriend and all, but d’fancy maybe dropping the ‘fake’ part?’  
James smiled at her like they were both in on the world’s biggest secret, and she beamed back, glowing like the sun.   
‘Yeah. I reckon I do.’

 

 


End file.
